Blue Bow aka Where did you get that?
by Startisparticus2017
Summary: S&H Fans and Fiction April writing prompt. Where did you get that? Not an average day for the boys, Hutch is in a bad mood. *Update**I have included Two versions of this story within this chapter.


Some people are sensitive to the fact that Hutch is always being picked on and "we" ladies are mean to Hutch. I have taken this review into consideration and have altered my previous story of Blue Bow. I'm always open to balance. Once again I do not own the characters, nor do I receive compensation for these stories. I'm simply a girl out to have fun!

 **Version 1 - Pick on Hutch**

Blue Bow - Where did you get that?

Starsky drove, swaying to the beat of the music. The breeze from the windows of the Torino tossed the brunette curls into disarray as he sang along to obnoxiously loud music.

"Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done, lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more."

The beat of the music echoed in adjacent to excessive head bobbing and hand drumming on the steering wheel of the Torino.

Standing ahead on the sidewalk in front of Merle's The Earl's Garage is Hutch, holding a brown paper bag in one hand with his arms' crossed. At first glance the tall blonde looked like something from a modeling runway as his hair glowed in the sunshine. Starsky noticed his partner's posture which appeared to be a perfect charade clue for annoyed, no maybe more 'pissed off'. He quickly accessed this was going to be a long 'grumpy partner' afternoon. Hutch wore a frown that would make a sad clown proud.

Starsky pulled the car over and shifted into park, taking a deep breath as he turned the knob on the radio to lower the music. Hutch reached for the door handle abruptly when Merle emerged from under the hood of the Galaxie, raising his right hand and pointed.

"Hey, you big dummy! Merle is the greatest, a masterful magician, but this is going' to take the act of the lord almighty. Maybe you ought to just put this junkyard on wheels to rest! This is a goddamn miracle that ain't going to happen. Tell him, Starsky!"

Hutch turned, raised his right hand and extended the middle finger as he lowered himself into the into the car with a gasped thud onto the car seat. The Torino roared as Starsky accelerated, leaving rubber marks and smoke.

Merle smiled ear to ear. "As I stand in validation, I am THE BEST! That tomato has been resurrected many times. A master, I am." The man turned to look at Hutch's car and looked up to the clear blue sky and raised his hands and shook his head.

Hutch sat, the foul mood chiseled his jaw rigid. Starsky looked ahead and glanced over taking a deep breath, his fingers fumbled the steering wheel.

He raised his left arm to look at his watch. "Look at the bright side, we're off duty in exactly three hours."

Hutch glared over at his partner, shifted in the car seat. "Oh, that's just terrific, we have two days off and I have no car. You know what Starsky? I don't want to hear it!" The exasperation and frustration trickled in his voice. Hutch slammed the brown paper bag onto the dashboard and crossed his arms.

Starsky turned his head fighting the stimulating urge of laughter. Hutch sat and noticed Starsky's shoulders curl forward and the uncontrollable jerking motion from his torso.

Hutch's eyes bulged and face reddened. "You think this is amusing, some partner you are? Your car breaks down, the world ends. God forbid there's a scratch or dent! I have to listen to your obsessive whining, you'd think you were in mourning. My car breaks down and you laugh!" His anger and frustration simmered like a teakettle on over boil as he stared at partner.

Starsky cleared his throat, he momentarily caught Hutch's death grip of blue gaze. "Relax will ya? I got it all worked out, see I was thinkin."

Hutch turned with his finger pointed at his partner. "DON'T! I don't' want to hear it! No jokes about my car! NO….. Why don't you get rid of that rust bucket on wheels and get a flashy sex machine on wheels like me, partner! It's a flashy stripped tomato with the sex-a-peal of a rash!" Hutch does his best Starsky vocal impression.

Starsky's grin dissolved into a pout. "My car, is a flashy sex machine on wheels! Geez, who pee'd in your oatmeal or should I say your desiccated liver and bean sprout protein drink? Grump!"

Hutch rubbed his belly and groaned.

Starsky noticed. "What is with you anyways?"

Hutch leaned his head onto his hand as his elbow sat on the window ledge of the car door. He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxed. "This day started out perfect, the sun shining, the weather is cool. I had a great cup of coffee, enjoyed the wonderful ambiance of BCPD and paperwork. You were not in the office to DISTRACT AND ANNOY ME! Then my car dies in the middle of a FREEWAY SEVEN TIMES!" The words were spoken calmly until the end, his voice a few decibels short of a shout.

Hutch squirmed in the car seat and appeared flushed, he glanced over to notice Starsky's slightly bruised ego. He sighed as a twinge of guilt hit him. "I'm sorry, Starsk! Say can you pull into a service station?"

Starsky raised one eyebrow and scrunched his lips mumbling something under his breath. "Bite me!"

Hutch turned his slightly focusing on the dashboard. "What was that?"

Starsky squinted, took a deep breath. "I said, fine by me!"

Hutch grabbed the paper bag that sat on the dashboard and retrieved a half eaten sandwich in plastic wrap and a small white box with a blue bow on it. Starsky's eyes wandered over conspicuously, when he noticed the white box, Hutch opened it carefully. The contents housed perfectly square bite size nibbles covered in vanilla and strawberry drizzles. Starsky suddenly uncomfortable, concern grew over his expression.

"Where did you get that?" The question directly and uncharacteristic of the usual sarcastic behavior.

Hutch startled and dropped the sandwich, and reached to retrieve it. "What?"

Starsky pulled the Torino over to the curbing abruptly, slamming the brakes. Hutch lunged forward, bracing himself against the dashboard of the car.

"Where-did- you- get-that?" The question, asked with even more intensity this time than before as he pointed at the box.

Hutch looked at the box and back at his partner, as the bridge of his nose and forehead formed a questionable wrinkle. "On my desk, there's one on yours, actually on everyone's desk."

Starsky grabbed the box and opened it, he retrieved a piece of dark fudge chocolate and smelled it. His eyes widened, he placed it back into the box. "How many have you eaten?"

Hutch raised his eyebrow. "Oh come on Starsky, 4 or 5 pieces. Why? Can we get going please, service station, remember? These are mine partner, dark Chocolate flavor with vanilla and Strawberry flavoring on it, not too sweet."

Hutch shuffled in the car seat again, displaying some discomfort. Starsky sat back and checked his rear view mirror and drove, his expression was calm, except for the strange mischievous grin that grew on his face.

The radio interrupted the moment. "Zebra three, come in Zerbra three."

Hutch shifted again with obvious irritation in his belly. "This is Zebra three."

Starsky's face still held a very suspicious grin as he glanced at Hutch. "Zebra three a message from Captain Dobey, cancel your plans he needs you two on duty. There appears to be an epidemic of stomach flu at the station, over."

Hutch sat back as he shifted in the car seat. Starsky reached and extracted the microphone from his partner's hand. "Zebra three we copy, please advise Captain Dobey I will remain on duty, my partner apparently has the same epidemic stomach flu, over."

Hutch sat with his mouth open, as he rubbed his stomach. "Starsky I just need to go to the bathroom, for gods sakes. The service station, please?"

Starsky scratched his head, and laughed with an interesting squealing-giggle tone uncontrollably. "What is so damn funny, I need to go to the bathroom!"

"STARSKY?" Hutch's face flushed as he squirmed in the car seat, his jaw tight and eyes wide.

Starsky took a deep breath and wiped the moisture from his eyes from laughing. He smirked as he drove. "Seems, oh boy, huh, Simonetti and Dryden returned the gift you sent them."

Hutch's face went blank, mouth opened as he looked down at the box of chocolates in his hands. "What do you mean? What? Starsky this isn't funny!"

Starsky exploded into laughter again and gasped for air. "Partner, you've been Ex-Laxed, chocolate flavored to be exact!" He began to laugh again, draping his left hand over his chest.

Hutch stunned, closed his eyes and tossed the box of chocolate ex-lax at his partner. Starsky navigated the car into the service station parking lot, while battling at the box tossed at him. He tentatively watched as Hutch ejected from the car, slight folded over hands pressed to his stomach.

"That was all your idea! So help me Starsky!... Oh GOD!" His eyes wide.

Hutch ran rather strangely, his feet scuffed as he hovered a hand on his backside entering the men's room, tripping. Starsky placed his hands over his face, overtaken by the hysterics of uncontrollable laughter that cast slightly undesirable snorting sounds follow by winded screeching.

A tough day for Hutch!

Version 2 - Pick on Starsky

Blue Bow

Hutch drove, swaying to the beat of the music. The breeze from the windows of the Torino tossed the blonde hair into disarray as he sang along to the music, his voice on key.

"Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done, lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more."

The beat of the music echoed lightly along with the mild hand drumming on the steering wheel of the Galaxie.

Standing ahead on the sidewalk in front of Merle's The Earl's Garage is Starsky, holding a brown paper bag in one hand with his arms' crossed. At first glance the curly haired brunette looked like something from a biker gang magazine his hair moved in the winds. Hutch noticed his partner's posture which appeared to be a perfect charade clue for annoyed, no maybe more 'pissed off'. He quickly accessed this was going to be a long 'grumpy partner' afternoon. Starsky wore a frown that would make a sad clown proud.

Hutch pulled the car over and shifted into park, taking a deep breath as he turned the knob on the radio to lower the music. Starsky reached for the door handle abruptly when Merle emerged from under the hood of the Torino, raising his right hand and pointed.

"Starsky you tell that big dummy partner of yours! Merle is the greatest, a masterful magician, that care of his is over due for service, it's going' to take the act of the lord almighty. Maybe he should just put that junkyard on wheels to rest! That is a goddamn miracle that ain't going to happen. Tell him, Starsky!"

Hutch turned, raised his right hand and extended the middle finger as Starsky lowered himself into the into the car with a gasped thud onto the car seat. The Galaxie studdard and puttered as Hutch accelerated, leaving rubber marks and smoke.

Merle smiled ear to ear. "As I stand in validation, I am THE BEST! That tomato has been resurrected many times. A master, I am." The man turned to look at Starsky's car and looked up to the clear blue sky and raised his hands and shook his head, thank you lord.

Starsky sat, the foul mood chiseled his jaw ridged. Hutch looked ahead and glanced over taking a deep breath, his fingers caressed the steering wheel.

He reached over and raised his partner's left arm to look at his watch. "Look at the bright side, we're off duty in exactly three hours, buddy."

Starsky glared over at his partner, shifted in the car seat. "Oh, that's just terrific, we have two days off and I have no car. You know what Hutch? I don't want to hear it!" The exasperation and frustration trickled in his voice. Starsky slammed the brown paper bag onto the dashboard and crossed his arms.

Hutch turned his head fighting the stimulating urge of laughter. Starsky sat and noticed Hutch's chipper and jovial demeanor, his chin stiffened more.

Starsky's eyes bulged and face reddened. "You think this is funny, some partner you are? You could care less, my car Hutch! God forbid if you could tell if there's a new scratch or dent in that garbage can on wheel of yours! I have to listen to your obsessive whining, about my car, the TOMATO. My car breaks down and you laugh!" His anger and frustration simmered like a teakettle on over boil as he stared at partner.

Hutch cleared his throat, he momentarily caught Starsky's death grip of indigo blue gaze. "Relax will ya? I got it all worked out, see I was thinking we could go the mountains and a."

Starsky turned with his finger pointed at his partner. "DON'T! I don't' want to hear it! No mountains, no camping, joke about my car! NO….. Why don't you get rid of that white striped flashy death trap on wheels Starsky? It has about as much sex a peal as a rotten tomato partner! It's a flashy tripped tomato with the sex-a-peal of a rash!" Starsky does his best Hutch vocal impression.

Hutch's grin dissolved, as he arched one eyebrow. "The difference here partner is my car, is running, I'm driving it, and yours is in the garage! Geez, who pee'd on your candy bar or in your pizza and root beer for breakfast? Grump!"

Starsky rubbed his belly and groaned.

Hutch noticed. "What is with you anyways?"

Starsky leaned his head onto his hand as his elbow sat on the window ledge of the car door. He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxed. "This day started out perfect, the sun shining, the weather is cool. I had a great cup of coffee, enjoyed the wonderful ambiance of BCPD and paperwork. You 'I got a dentist appointment' were not in the office AND LEFT ME WITH ALL THE REPORTS! Then my car dies in the middle of a FREEWAY THREE TIMES!" The words were spoken calmly until the end, his voice a few decibels short of a shout.

Starsky squirmed in the car seat and appeared flushed, he glanced over to notice Hutch's slightly bruised ego. He sighed as a twinge of guilt hit him. "I'm sorry, Hutch! Say can you pull into a service station?"

Hutch raised one eyebrow and scrunched his lips mumbling something under his breath. "Why don't' you eat me!"

Starsky turned his head slightly focusing on the dashboard. " Huh, what was that?"

Hutch squinted, took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. "I said, fine by me!"

Starsky grabbed the paper bag that sat on the dashboard and retrieved a half eaten donut in plastic wrap and a small white box with a blue bow on it. Hutch's eyes wandered over conspicuously, when he noticed the white box, Starsky opened it carefully. The contents housed perfectly square bite size nibbles covered in vanilla and strawberry drizzles. Hutch suddenly uncomfortable, concern grew over his expression.

"Where did you get that?" The question directly and uncharacteristic of the usual sarcastic behavior.

Starsky startled and dropped the donut, and reached to retrieve it. "What?"

Hutch pulled the car over to the curbing abruptly, slamming the brakes. Starsky lunged forward, bracing himself against the dashboard of the car.

"Where-did- you- get-that?" The question, asked with even more intensity this time than before as he pointed at the box.

Starsky looked at the box and back at his partner, as the bridge of his nose and forehead formed a questionable wrinkle. "On my desk, there's one on yours, actually on everyone's desk."

Hutch grabbed the box and opened it, he retrieved a piece of dark fudge chocolate and smelled it. His eyes widened, he placed it back into the box. "How many have you eaten?"

Starsky raised his eyebrow. "What is with you? 4 or 5 pieces. Why? Can we get going please, service station, remember? These are dark Chocolate flavor with vanilla and Strawberry flavoring on it, not too sweet."

Starsky shuffled in the car seat again, displaying some discomfort. Hutch sat back and checked his rear view mirror and drove, his expression was calm, except for the strange mischievous grin that grew on his face.

The radio interrupted the moment. "Zebra three, come in Zerbra three."

Starsky shifted again with obvious irritation in his belly. "This is Zebra three."

Hutch's face still held a very suspicious grin as he glanced at Starsky. "Zebra three a message from Captain Dobey, cancel your plans he needs you two on duty. There appears to be an epidemic of stomach flu at the station, over."

Starsky sat back as he shifted in the car seat. Hutch reached and extracted the microphone from his partner's hand. "Zebra three we copy, please advise Captain Dobey I will remain on duty, my partner apparently has the same epidemic stomach flu, over."

Starsky sat with his mouth open, as he rubbed his stomach. "Hutch I just need to go to the bathroom, for gods sakes. The service station, lets get crackin?"

Hutch scratched his head, and laughed with an interesting cackle-giggle tone uncontrollably. "What is so damn funny, I need to go to the bathroom!"

"HUTCH?" Starsky's face flushed as he squirmed in the car seat, his jaw tight and eyes wide.

Hutch took a deep breath and wiped the moisture from his eyes from laughing. He smirked as he drove. "Seems, oh boy, huh, Simonetti and Dryden returned the gift you sent them."

Starsky's face went blank, mouth opened as he looked down at the box of chocolates in his hands. "What do you mean? What? This isn't funny!"

Hutch exploded into laughter again and gasped for air. "Partner, you've been Ex-Laxed, chocolate flavored to be exact!" He began to laugh again, draping his right hand over his chest.

Starsky stunned, closed his eyes and tossed the box of chocolate ex-lax at his partner. Hutch navigated the car into the service station parking lot, while battling at the box tossed at him. He tentatively watched as Starsky ejected from the car, slight folded over hands pressed to his stomach.

"That was all your idea! So help me, Hutch!... Oh GOD!" His eyes wide.

Starsky shuffled in place and ran rather strangely, his feet scuffed as he hovered a hand on his backside entering the men's room, tripping. Hutch placed his hands over his face, overtaken by the hysterics of uncontrollable laughter that cast slightly undesirable snorting sounds follow by winded cackling.

A tough day for Starsky!


End file.
